Lost In Vegas
by izfan26
Summary: the Dursleys have given harry up for adoption. who better to take him in than Chris Angel? just read X3! oh, and also, Harry has a five-year-old sister and his parents died when he was seven. just FYI.
1. Chapter 1

_**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING BUT THE , IDEA! NOTHING! YOU HEAR ME, SQUIRREL BOY?**_

_**NOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGG !**_

_**HARRY'S P.O.V.**_

A normal morning at Hogwarts School. Students eating, laughing, talking about their schedules and Snape's potion's class.

And I was sitting with my two best friends, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. We were waiting for our owls to arrive. "Hedwig's mistaken Snape for you again," Hermione said pointing to the staff table.

Indeed, my snowy owl was perched on Snape's shoulder. He started talking to her, then took the letter from her beak. He got up and billowed over to us. "Excuse me," he crooned in his oily voice, "does this, perchance, belong to you?" he waved airily at Hedwig, whose talons were starting to draw blood.

"Yes, sir." I said in equal mock politeness. We shared a grin as I took the letter. We had gained a grudging respect/friendship since he saved my life when I got the sorcerer's stone last year. I tore open the letter and recognized Uncle Vernon's handwriting.

"Whath ith thay, 'arry?" asked Ron, his mouth stuffed with Bangers and Mash.

"Pardon?" I asked politely.

He swallowed and said, "What's it say, Harry?"

Hermione looked over at Snape who was still there. "Er, sir, you can leave if you want you, we won't need you until the next chapter."

"Yes, but now I'm interested." then turned to me, "go ahead, Harry."

I blinked. "Uhh… OK." Then I read out loud,

_"Dear Freak,_

_We're tired of it. You can't live in our home any more. You've overstayed your welcome by eleven years. If you respond to this letter, we will have you hunted down. You are _ _going to Las Vegas, America, where you will live with a freak like you. You will bring that little girl with you. Expect it on a train to your school by three today. Never write me gain. We are no longer relatives. You do not exist to us._

_ Vernon Dursley."_

"Oh, no." whispered Hermione, her hands clamped over her mouth. Her skin was whiter than parchment.

"That… little… MUGGLE!" hissed Ron. His arm and Hermione's immediately encircled me. I held the letter and scanned it over again as if it said something different. The lingering feeling of reject swirled around inside me like dry snow in the wind on a sidewalk. I know I shouldn't've cared, but it still hurt that my only real family had rejected me.

"WHERE did they say you were going?" asked Ron.

I swallowed hard and remembered how to speak. "Las- Las Vegas."

"In Nevada?! IN _**AMERICA**_?!" Shrieked Hermione. "How will you get to Hogwarts?"

"I'll probably get transferred somewhere." I answered her, a lump forming in my throat and my vision fogging up. My cheeks were wet. But I wasn't crying. Guys don't cry.

"We'd never see each other again." Ron managed in a choked voice, his eyes welling up.

"Ronald, you're not the only one who'd lose a friend here!"

"You don't count." He barked.

"DON'T COUNT! I'm as much as you are, Ronald!"

"Your feelings get complicated too often!"

"Guys and girls can be just friends without getting complicated!"

"Yeah, sure, but you sure don't!"

"Honestly, you are such an absolute, gigantic-"

"_**CAN YOU GUYS STOP SQUABBLING FOR LONGER THAN TWENTY-NINE SECONDS**_?!" I shouted. Fine, I admit it, ears were pouring out of my eyes. "what the hell am I supposed to do?!

We all looked at Snape, who was watching all this entertaining drama this whole time. He sighed, and said tiredly, "okay, kids, I know this is bad. Probably the worst news you'll get in your lives so far. You're the Golden Trio, and a heartless muggle tore you apart selfishly, and you'll probably never see eachother again in your lives. Harry, you're going to a new school when you just found a home here, and you're going to a country where yours hasn't been welcome since the eighteen hundreds."

There was a long silence.

"but what?" we demanded in unison.

Snape looked confused. "but what?"

Ron slapped his forehead and moaned. Hermione said in exasperation, "you were supposed to tell us that something good was going to help us!"

"but it won't." he said stupidly.

Honestly, sometimes I don't know about that man.


	2. Chapter 2

_**HAZEL'S P.O.V.**_

I wasn't supposed to ride this train for six more years. Auntie had begged Unkie Vernon no to send Harry and me away. She said we were Lily's babies. How would he like it if we were his kids? He said we were the freak's kids, not his. He said we were nothing. Then he turned to me, and he said, "do you hear me, girl? You are a _nobody!_ An _it! _You and your freaky big brother! Your parents were useless! They were weirdoes, no doubt about it! Can you understand that, _DUCKY? _I wish you were DEAD! Do you hear me? _DEAD!_"

Auntie Petunia was a smart lady. She said this wasn't a good place for us. "I'll send you lots of letters," she promised on the way to the train station. "You'll write me back, won't you?"

"Yes, Auntie." We both knew we could never write, never, because Unkie Vernon would find out and… and I'd never forgive myself. She took me to the platform, told me how to get on the train then she couldn't stand it anymore. She wrapped her arms around me and held me for a long time. I still felt her tears on my green turtleneck sweater.

I finally pulled into the station. Harry and his two best friends were waiting for me. "Harry." I cried, running toward him.

"Hey there, Ducky." He groaned, wrapping me in his warm embrace. I buried my nose in is shirt and inhaled. He still smelled like wood polish and chocolate. He smelled like _him_. It was all I could do to keep from crying. "It's OK, Ducky." He whispered. "You'll be fine now, my ducky, you're OK."

I should probably explain the nickname "Ducky."

See, back when we lived with our Mummy and Daddy he had this little rubber ducky he loved. It made this little squealing baby noise. When I came along, he realized I made the exact same noise. The name stuck, and now he calls me Ducky.

He stroked my dark red hair. "Come on, sweetie. We're going to talk to a nice man who's going to try to help us."

"Can he get us back to Auntie?"

Harry smiled grimly. "No, love. But I'll help you make a new life where we're going.

"So, children, I think you'd agree I've attempted everything." Said the headmaster of Hogwarts. We nodded obediently. "I truly have. I sent letters, howlers, patronuses, I visited privet drive myself, didn't I Hazel?"

"Yes sir." I muttered. I had never seen two people scream at each other the way he and Vernon did.

"You said you'd help us," growled Harry, "not tell us all hope is lost."

"Harry, I tried! I couldn't do it! They didn't want you!"

"Oh, so it took you five years to figure that out? They hated us! They hated Mum! What made you think they'd love us?!"

A fight was coming, I could tell. Apparently Ron and Hermione sensed it too. I felt Ron's hand squeeze mine. He steered me to the stone door. Hermione's hand stroked my hair then kissed it gently. "It's OK, honey." She soothed. "Let's get you something to eat. You must be starving."

I heard Harry and Dumbledore screaming at each other through the closed stone door all the way down to the grounds.


	3. Chapter 3

_**SNAPE'S P.O.V.**_

The potters together reminded me of something. Her dark red hair, pale skin, small stature, 3"7' height and childhood chub. His thin and lean stature yet 5"2' height, messy black hair and glasses.

I walked over to where they were sitting. "Hi." I got t lamely.

"Hey, Sev." Said Harry. He turned to the little girl. "Hazel-Duck, say hello."

"Hi." She grinned up at me. Oh. So _that's_ why she looked so familiar. With that smile, she was her mother in miniature. Switch the eyes, they'd be their parents. It was heartbreaking to see. If only I'd made it in time, maybe… just maybe… I might've… "Mister, why are you crying?"

I fisted away my tears. "Professor." I grumbled, not meeting her face. "Not 'Mister.' 'Professor.'" I eyed the seat Weasley had left empty. "May I?" I asked, pointing.

Harry nodded. His eyes were red from crying when Lil- I mean _Hazel_ wasn't looking. I noticed her round hazel eyes were fixated on me in childlike wonder. "Yes?" I asked.

"Are you really the potions teacher, like Harry says?"

"Indeed I am, miss."

"And you really read minds and scare bad people and everything?"

"It's called Legilimency. And yes, I do all that stuff. And lot more."

"And-"her light voice dropped to an amazed, admiring whisper. "-and you're really _magic_?"

"Yep." I said proudly. "Everyone here is. Oh, ah-" I leaned in close and whispered, "accept the caretaker. Argus Filch."

"The scary man with the mean kitty?" so _that's_ how she got that scratch.

"Yes, but he doesn't like to talk about it."

"Am I magic too?"

"With luck." _Why is she asking so many questions?_ I wondered. _And_ _why ask me? Why not ask her brother, or-_ I stopped myself with a mental slap before I could think "her aunt or uncle." Why would they know, or tell her if they did? I was asking before I could stop myself. "you want to see where I teach potions?"

She looked as if I'd offered her a lifetime supply of candy or her own unicorn. "really?"

"really." She jumped up, and I took her small hand in mine. I aught Harry's eye before we left. _Why?_

My answer? _I've no idea._

My reason? _She looks like Lily._

Hazel watched with wide eyes as the potion in the cauldron turned the exact shade of lilac the book described. _Why can't I get my students pay attention like this?_ Note from a teacher: if a five-year-old child outshines you in the attention department, that's kind of sad. "how did you do that?"

"add a clockwise stir after every eighth counterclockwise stir." I told her. "and also cut the stuntwigs with the flat side of the blade. Releases juices better than cutting."

"did you write it all in that book?" she asked, pointing to my potions textbook I've kept since I was sixteen.

"sure did," I told her. "wrote it all in the margin. Err… you do know what the margin is, right?"

"yeah. It's the space where there's not words in between paragraphs, right?"

"right." I said casually. Then realized what she'd said. "wait a minute- you can read?"

She nodded. "Harry taught me. he and auntie Petunia stole books for us to use. My favorite was _To Kill A Mockingbird_, because a little girl was the main character." She sat back in her seat and blinked innocently.

I wasn't quite sure how to reply to that. "ahhh… oo-kaay." I went back to stirring. "Perfect."

"Look what I can do!" she picked up a quill, squeezed it, and in a second, it was solid gold.

I was wowed. "You have a gold touch!"

"Other than you, only Harry knows."

"Don't just tell people, sweetie. Bad people will hurt you to get you to do that."

"Okay." She agreed. Then, "can you make a silver deer, like Harry?"

"like Harry? He can make a patronus?"

"uh-huh. He found the spell in a book after he came home from Diagon Alley the first time. He tried it and said it was real easy. It was pretty and it nibbled my hair and we used it to read by. Can you make one?"

"erm… well, each patronus looks different, depending on who's making it. Professor Dumbledore's is a phoenix-"

"the pretty bird in his office?"

"-the pretty bird in his office. Mr. Weasley's- Ron's father- is a ferret."

"what was Mummy's?"

"it was a doe. A female deer."

"what's yours?"

I pulled out my wand, crying, "_Expecto Patronum_!" a silver doe pushed itself out of the tip of my wand. It sniffed the potion in the cauldron and nibbled Hazel's hair. She giggled in delight.

"can anyone make them?" she asked, scratching it behind the ear.

"no. I'm surprised Harry was able to make one. Not even in his first year at Hogwarts!"

She looked down at her hands, folded up in her lap. "but I'm not gonna get to come here, am I?"

I sighed. "probably not sweetie. You're going to be living very far away."

"Because I been real bad."

"no!" I cried softly. I knelt down in front of her and placed my hands on her shoulders. "no, honey, it wasn't your fault. You're a good little girl, no one's mad at you.

"except Unkie Vernon. He's real mad, all the time."

"Correction; no one smart is mad at you." She ginned. I filled a vial with the draught of living death I created. I started to hand it to her-

-and she grabbed it and drained it in two swallows. It took effect immediately. She began to fall forward, and I somehow managed to catch her. I paced around the dungeon, rocking her gently. "Sevvie…?" she asked groggily.

"Yes?"

"Was Mummy nice?"

"She was indeed."

"Was Mummy pretty?"

"Very. You look just like her."

"And Sevvie… just one more question…?

"Of course, love."

"Did you love her?"

I told the little girl something I'd never told anyone else. "Yes Hazel. I loved your mother with the whole of my heart. Part of me died with her. Now, go to sleep."

I sat down and stoked her hair as she slumbered. No matter. She would forget I said it in the morning.

The goodbyes the next day were, as goodbyes always are, very sad. Girls hugged harry and wept. A few dropped to their knees and begged him not to go.

The quidditch team was, if anything, worse. Wood started shrieking about how he was losing the best seeker in a century. The chasers cried as they held him.

No one really knew Hazel, but that didn't stop her hugging everything that moved. She even got a hug out of Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. Then she made Harry hug them too.

Ron and Hermione had said goodbye alone, and brought Harry back, all of them with red eyes and mournful looks. Harry loaded his box of letters and addresses and I don't know what all, and got in the front seat of my black sedan.

Three hours later, I caught Harry singing something. He'd moved into the back with Hazel, and her head was on his shoulder as he stroked her hair and sang.

_There is a valley_

_Behind the moon, the rain_

_It is a place my scar won't have any pain._

_Lay mum's red hair_

_Close daddy's eyes_

_And when you open them, the sun will rise_

_Here it's safe; no one cares what's the norm,_

_And here my arms can keep you safe from each harm._

_A place where he ignores,_

_I can stay from night 'til noon._

_Here is the place I can love you._

Harry's promising what he can't give her, I realized. A place they can be away from voldemort, a better tomorrow than the piece of time we call today.

_Deep in that valley, hidden far away,_

_There is a tree, it gently sways._

_Lay down your tears, and let these evils lay_

_And when again the sun comes, they rinse away._

_Here it's safe; no one cares what's the norm,_

_And here my arms can keep you safe from each harm. _

The final words were barely a whisper.

_A place where he ignores,_

_I can stay from night 'til noon._

_Here is the place I can love you._

"Where'd you hear that?" I asked.

"Made it up." He whispered, trying to let Hazel sleep for the last few hours until we got to the airport. "After Mum and Dad died."

We sat in silence a minute before I said, "Harry- it was me."

"What was you?"

"I told Voldemort about the prophecy. I didn't think he'd go after you. If I'd kept my trap shut, you wouldn't be in this."

Harry sniffed back shock. "You know," he said in a quivering voice, "in a way… I already knew."

"you did?"

"Yeah. I didn't want it to be, though. I told myself I was wrong. You had had nothing to do with it… guess I was wrong."

After three eternities, we made it to the airport. Hazel stumbled along groggily, her hand in Harry's. "Harry." I called.

He turned. "yeah, Sev?"

"I-I wish… oh, god, Harry, I wish-"

He held up a hand to stop me. "we all wish, professor. Nice learning from you."

"nice teaching you." I replied, adding a weak smile for good measure. I got back in my car. I could've driven away, but I watched them disappear into the crowd.

I knew that, no matter how she looked like Lily, Hazel was not lily.

Then why did I have the sickening feeling that it was Lily, and I'd just lost her again?

_**END OF CHAPTER 3. REVIEW, FAVORITE AND FOLLOW!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**HARRY'S P.O.V.**_

My Gryffindor robe was draped over Hazel's scrawny shoulders as we sat on the bench, waiting for the attendant. Dumbledore told us our things would be transported to Mr. Angel's house so we would have less to carry. I held Hazel's favorite fairy tale book on my lap. She leaned on my shoulder sleepily.

"Harry?" she slurred.

"Yeah, Ducky? You hungry?" I started to head to a coffee stand, but she grabbed my hand.

"No, that's not it. I wanted to tell you something. Dumbledore said before we left that the lady putting us on the plane will be a witch. He said to tell her, 'a circle has no beginning,' and she'd know it was us." She rubbed her eyes and blinked innocently. "Okay?"

I smiled slightly at her. "Thank you, sweetie." She yawned and her head fell on my lap. I picked up the book, and started reading from the first page. "'I'm hiding, I'm hiding, and no one knows where, for all they can see is my toes and my hair…'"

On the night Voldemort killed our parents, I made it out with one possession. Our book, _A Child's Anthology of Poetry_. In the months to follow, I would read her every poem in that book again and again and again. It's one of the books I taught her to read with. I feel like, as long as it's safe, we're safe. Obviously, I have bigger problems than some worn old book falling apart at the spine, but it's like a security blanket. You carry it and love it and it chases away the nightmares. Even now, five years after that Halloween night, I can still hear my mum screaming; still feel that burning, bleeding pain on my forehead, still feel my arms ache from holding Hazel. She was only 4 weeks old, but after a 200 mile run to my aunt and uncle's house, it felt like I was carrying a ton of cinder.

Right… sorry… getting off-topic here.

Anyway, a lady in a blue flight attendant suit walked up to me in the middle of "you are old, father William," and said, "Excuse me love, which came first, the chicken or the egg?"

I blink and remember Hazel's words. "'A circle has no beginning.'"

She beamed at me. "I'm Stacy." She gripped my shoulder, and steered me to our gate. Hazel was asleep in my arms. My last bit of family. I gave her a little squeeze and promised myself right then and there I'd never let anything happen to her.

Stacy showed us to our seats. First class, no less. _Well_, I thought,_ we _ARE _about to become a celebrity's kids_. "You guys let me know if you need anything, OK?"

I nodded and she disappeared. The Dursleys had never taken us anywhere by plane. I hadn't been on one since I was three, and Hazel had never been on one. I had to wake her up to show her how to put on her seatbelt. Then she looked up at me and said, "You should sleep too."

I wanted to argue, but my eyes were incredibly heavy. "OK." I curled up in my seat, thinking I'd never get to sleep.

Two seconds later, I was out like a lumos charm.

How to describe it? Not a nightmare, exactly, but not a good dream either.

I was in a pizza parlor, and three people were sitting there, waiting for me. One was Hazel. The other two were people I hadn't seen in 5 years, but remembered painfully._ Mum_? I whispered. _Dad_?

It was like looking in the Mirror of Erised. Mum invited me to sit next to her, and Dad was teaching Hazel how to do the crossword puzzle. _Is this heaven_? I asked.

The three of them laughed. Dad said, _no_,_ it's a pizza parlor_. Then, Dudley came in, and took my slice away (I don't know when we got the pizza) and said mockingly, _do you want this_, _Harry_? _If you want this, you have to die._

I said, _I want it, but I don't want to die._

Dudley laughed, and said, _sucks for you._

The last the last thing I remember was begging for the pizza, and Dudley laughing cruelly and gobbling it up in front of me. I never wanted anything more than I wanted that pizza. Why?

Stacy shook me gently. "breakfast." She told me. On the tray in front of me, she put a stack of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, orange juice and a frothing mug of hot cocoa. Hazel had doughnuts, some junk food cereal, and a banana. She had hot cocoa and juice too. She looked at the food with wide, unbelieving eyes. "Oh," she gasped. "Oh, is this all for me?" the disbelief of the chronically hungry always tugs at your heart strings.

Stacy grinned. "Yeah. Let me know if you're still hungry." Smiling and walking away, she called, "eat up!" but then she rushed back to me and whispered, "You were a great Gryffindor. I was in there too." Then she vanished.

I dug out my iPod and scrolled through my playlist. Nothing struck me. Hazel was taking huge bites of doughnut and swallowing them whole. "It's better if you chew it." I told her. She nodded and tried to slow down, but I knew it was so hard when you were that hollow.

We sat in silence awhile and watched some Zombie love story. Hot bodies, or something like that. Hazel couldn't tear her eyes away and laughed out loud during the flesh-eating scene, where he eats that one guy's brain. Percy, wasn't it?

Honestly, sometimes I don't know about that kid.

When our plane touched down in Las Vegas, the first thing I noticed at the gate was a giant crowd waiting for us. A crowd of at least half the city waving signs that said junk like "welcome, Angel Babies!" and "your family sucked for giving you up!"

_They didn't have a choice_ I thought when I saw that one. _You don't even know. Mum and Dad loved us. They would never get rid of us. You don't even know._

At the very back of the mob was a stretch limo. A woman stepped out of it. She was wearing a green midi and her long, blonde hair was in a waterfall of curls. Her smile could've lit up the dark side of the moon. "Hey, guys." She said. "I'm Kimmy. Criss's girlfriend. He's sorry he couldn't be here." She opened the door. "Welp. Get in!"

And we were driven away from our former lives.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Criss's POV**_

A normal afternoon for me overall. Pulling hot chicks out of thin air, levitating myself without wires, grown women screaming and begging me to sign their bodies in permanent marker (_seriously_, I often thought, _get a life_).

But while normally I wished it would never end, I wanted more than anything to get home and see my kids. My kids. God. For the first time, they felt real. I was going to go home and see Kimmy, Harry and Hazel. My family. My world. My life.

OK, sorry if that's sappy, I'm gonna say junk like that a lot throughout the course of this fanfic, so get over yourselves.

Anyway, shrieking "'SCUSE ME, PARDON ME, CRISS ANGEL COMING THROUGH!" I dove into my limo (Away from the crowd!) and called up to the driver, "home! And step on it!"

"Want to switch limo's tonight, Criss?" he asked.

"Nah, we're not being followed." I sprawled out on the leather bench and popped open a bottle of water. Truth be told, I wouldn't have cared if everyone in Vegas was five feet behind us. I just wanted to get home as soon as possible. I felt like a total dick for not picking them up at the airport, but Gaga had begged me to perform so hard, cried even, that when I refused anyway, she threatened to sue me for everything I had. I asked her, "why would you want a cat and a stick?" and she strangled me. I hoped the kids understood.

The limo finally pulled up into the driveway. No, I'm not going to describe my house; if I did you'd stalk me. So Ha! And… yet another Ha!

…

Ha-_HA_!

Anyway, the first thing I noticed was a five-year-old girl on the floor, playing with Hammie. Her gap-toothed grin could've made L.G. back down in an instant. "hello." She said in her cute British accent (good god, every girl in my fan base was going to post "OMG, she's so cute" like, a million times on my wall). "Are you my new daddy?"

I grinned at her. "Yeah. I'm Criss. You're Hazel?"

She nodded. "Harry's talking to the nice lady upstairs. Is she our new mummy?"

"Not yet. But, can you keep a secret?" she nodded. "I'm gonna ask her to marry me. Do you know what that means?"

She nodded. "It's like in _to kill a mockingbird_ and Tom was married to that lady and that's why he wouldn't rape Mayella, right?"

"That's it. Then she'll be your mommy." she dumped Hammie off her lap (which he meowed in protest at) and grabbed my leg. "What _are_ you doing?" I picked her up and held her. "Well, that's what kids do when their daddies come home from work, right? Dudley used to hug Unkie Vernon too. Then he said that men don't hug and to mind my own business."

I pushed back her dark red hair. "Let's go see your brother. Yeah?" she nodded.

As I carried her upstairs, I caught the smell of Kimmy's famous cookies. A young adolescent voice said, "Hey, you hear that?"

Kimmy's replied, "Yeah, that's probably Criss." She opened the door and hugged me. "I have a little helper in the kitchen, don't I honey?"

Hazel nods. "She maked us grilled cheeses and stuff. And bacon!"

"Made. Made us grilled cheeses." Harry didn't look as happy as Hazel. In fact, he didn't look happy at all. At most, he looked nostalgic.

Confession time: I didn't know much about their past.

Go ahead, hate on me. I know, it was stupid. But the Dursleys were so desperate to get rid of them, I was all, _hey, man that ain't cool, the kids deserve a chance_. But the uncle didn't tell us anything but that they were freaks and we were freaks.

Anyway, at dinner, Hazel was talking to Kimmy about girl stuff (shoes, clothes, dolls, god knows what else) and I tried to connect with Harry. He kept looking at me with this faraway look in his eyes, then at Kimmy almost… sadly? No, that's not it. Mournfully. Yeah, that's right. He was looking at her mournfully. "Hey, man, you OK?"

He rubbed his eyes hard. "Yeah. Just… nothing." He put down his half-eaten sandwich and asked to be excused.

After he left, I whistled. "Hoo, boy, what's his problem?"

"He misses our mummy and daddy."

Kimmy and I stared at the redhead child still sitting with us, working through her fourth sandwich. "He does?" Kimmy asked casually.

She nodded. "He remembered our last night as a family. We were having hot dogs that night, Mummy was singing me a lullaby, and Daddy was joking with Harry about school hou-" she blushed as though she'd said too much. No amount of wheedling or begging would get any more out of her. I offered her a cookie. She hates cookies, so I discovered.

After tucking her into her big, pink bed, I went to check on Harry. Putting my ear up to the door, I made out muffled sobs. Fractured words. _You don't even… it's not… why would he…. What was he…? I was only seven…_

I knocked on the door. "Harry?" no answer. "Harry, can I come in?"

Creaking. Then the doorknob turned. Harry came into view and looked at me with red eyes. "You're my dad now. So you don't really need permission, do you?"

"nah." I answered, "But I got you to open the door." Harry grunted and flopped back onto the bed. He was wearing a t-shirt down to his knees… and nothing else.

Sickos.

Anyway, Harry was silent for a while. I noticed he had started crying again. "Harry?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't call me 'sir' kiddo. Just Criss is OK. And, ah… how much do you… remember?"

"A lot." Yeah, he's one for details, this kid. "Where're you sending me and Hazel?"

"The Meadows. It's a private school, k-12. You'll like it."

Harry buried his face in the pillow, glasses and all. "Fat chance." I made out. I covered him in the blanket and started to creep out of the room. "Criss?"

I turned to the lump under the feather blanket that was my adopted son. "Yeah?"

"Why us? Why did you save us?"

As stupid as it may sound, I gave an honest answer. "You guys needed me."

Harry muttered something and was out like a light. What was that? You wanna know what he said?

Well, I thought that'd be obvious.

He repeated himself.

"Fat chance."


End file.
